


The Lumberjack to my Mountie

by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Shepard, Canada, Canada Day, Excessive Canadian Punning, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Gift Fic, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, PWP, Post-War, Renegade Commander Shepard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4196439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_sprinkles/pseuds/Lemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaidan is excited about Canada; Shepard is excited about a particular aspect of Canada.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lumberjack to my Mountie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knightofbunnies](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=knightofbunnies).



> Written for Bree for her birthday! Happy birthday, lady. She wanted an excessively Canadian fic involving bad sexual innuendo and smut so... I hope I delivered. I'm Canadian and I can vouch for all the terribly sickeningly sweet shit we consume on a regular basis. We may rot our teeth out with maple syrup and Nanaimo bars, but it's so worth it.

 It was Canada’s 321st birthday.

At least Kaidan thought it was. It wasn’t as if he sat around ticking the dates off on his omni-tool, waiting for the day when he’d get to consume vast quantities of poutine, sing the national anthem with a lager in his hand, and visit the old Vancouver Olympic stadium along with thousands of other like-minded folk. But he _did_ make a point of keeping it in the back of his mind.

 The last time Kaidan had been able to celebrate Canada Day had been years ago—before the Reapers, before Sovereign and Saren, before the Normandy SR1 and the plethora of battle scars and military accolades. Perhaps most importantly, however, it had been before Shepard.

 Canada Day for Kaidan was supposed to be a day spent with family. When he was a kid his parents would take him to Granville Island to celebrate, his cheeks adorned with painted maple leaves, a paper flag in his grasp, and a pocket full of credit chits to spend on whatever dessert caught his eye. In the evening they’d watch the fireworks over English bay, sitting down on the beach along with everyone else, wrapped up in a blanket tucked tightly between his mother and father.

 Jump Zero changed things. Kaidan couldn’t spend it with his parents and the harsh brutality of the facility left little time for anything remotely resembling celebration. Still, he remembered telling Rahna and the other students about Canada, sharing his experiences growing up in a country that could only be described as breathtaking. He remembered promising Rahna he’d take her to a Canada Day celebration once they got out.

 That never happened.

It was after Brain Camp that Kaidan stopped celebrating. There was no time; no incentive; no desire. Being in the Alliance meant you were loyal to all of Earth and her colonies strewn about the galaxy. You no longer had a country you served for. He now worked alongside colony kids and spacers alike who had only seen Earth on the vids, or to visit Alliance HQ for a day or two before shipping back out. Their loyalty was only abstract—not real and personal like with an earthborn kid such as himself.

Still, you could take the Canadian out of Canada, but you couldn’t take Canada out of the Canadian.

 When Canada Day rolled around and Kaidan realized he had the time, the incentive, and the desire to celebrate, the excitement he felt when he was a little kid returned in full force. He’d noted the date a few days before, checking the calendar to see when Shepard’s next physio appointment was and catching the first of July out of the corner of his eye. It actually took him a second to figure out why that date was so important to him—birthday? Anniversary? A doctor’s appointment?—but when it did Kaidan couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his lips, nor push back the enthusiasm that welled up in his chest at the notion of spending the day being obnoxiously Canadian with his fellow earthborn husband.

 In hours he had the whole day planned out. They’d start by having a classic Canadian breakfast—pancakes with maple syrup, donuts, and, most importantly, bacon. Kaidan would then drag Shepard into town where they’d partake in whatever events were going on. Afterward Kaidan would teach Shepard all about his fine country’s history as they snacked on butter tarts along the beach, followed by a dinner of steak from Alberta and wine from the Okanagan valley—if he could get his hands on any, that was.

 It was going to be perfect.

XX

 “What’s in the box?”

 Kaidan turned around in the kitchen to see Shepard stood in the doorway, his cane in one hand while the other was up his shirt, scratching idly at his stomach as he eyed the pink bakery box on the kitchen table.

 “Open it up and see,” he said, grinning brightly.

 Shepard peered at him suspiciously. “What’s with the smile?”

 “I can’t be happy in the morning?” Kaidan asked, unable to lose the grin that had Shepard looking at him like he’d grown six heads.

 Shepard grunted but made no move to open the box, much to Kaidan’s disappointment. Instead he approached him and took the mug he’d been holding from his grasp with a gentle hand, drinking half of Kaidan’s morning coffee in one go. Rolling his eyes, Kaidan took the mug back, accepting a kiss along with it.

 “Brave enough to open it now that you’ve had your morning dose of caffeine?” Kaidan mumbled, accepting another kiss—this one lazy and slow and all together picture-perfect.

 Shepard hummed against his lips, his free hand skirting along the hem of Kaidan’s shirt. “Can it wait?” he asked, pushing Kaidan against the counter with his hips. Normally Kaidan would have gone along with Shepard’s wandering hands and coaxing kisses, the novelty of morning sex—of having _time_ for morning sex—still not having worn off even after two years. But normally it wasn’t Canada Day.

 “We’ve got plans for the day,” Kaidan said, grabbing Shepard’s wrist before he had time to snake it down the front of his pants. “Important plans.”

 Shepard sighed dramatically and plopped his chin down on Kaidan’s shoulder. “I thought the point of coming out here for a couple of months was to get away from having ‘important plans’.”

 “Yeah, it was. And we are. These are just important plans—not _important plans_.”

 Important plans being repairing earth, negotiating with alien diplomats, rebuilding mass relays, and dealing with a physically and mentally scarred war hero struggling to come to grips with his past actions and daunting future.

 It was actually Shepard who spoke to Hackett about getting a few months’ leave. Kaidan hadn’t wanted to ask, knowing the Alliance was stretched thin as it was. Men and women who were willing and able to serve had seen a dramatic drop during and after the war, most soldiers of any rank and experience having been lost either through death or severe maiming—Shepard included. Kaidan was one of the lucky few who made it out unscathed, and therefore was a valuable asset to the reconstruction effort once the Normandy found its way back into the Sol system.

But it had been agreed upon by everyone but Kaidan that he needed a break—time to put his feet up and worry about menial things like what to have for dinner and if he needed a jacket to go outside. Years of running on all four cylinders had left Kaidan stretched thin, but he had only agreed once Shepard’s doctors said it would be of benefit for him as well. They’d been holed up in London’s rubble for too long, the air a detriment to even a healthy body. Shepard had been through a medically induced coma, multiple surgeries to repair vital organs and damaged skin, and almost lost his left leg due to his rescuers removing the rubble pinning him before it was safe to do so. And that was just the physical trauma.

 All in all, the two of them fit the bill of the ‘war weary soldier’, and it was with all those things in mind that Kaidan gave up his post and headed home.

 Well, almost home. It wasn’t quiet Vancouver, but the small cabin just outside of the town of Tofino was good enough.

 Shepard sighed again. Lifting his head from Kaidan’s shoulder he turned around to once more stare at the box. “Fine—what’s in the box?” he asked dutifully.

 “Open it.” Kaidan grinned again.

 Sitting down at the kitchen table, Shepard stretched his leg out and rested his cane against the back of the chair beside him. Grabbing the box he flipped the lid open carefully and peeked inside.

 “It’s a box of doughnuts,” he said slowly.

 Kaidan nodded enthusiastically.

 “And they say ‘Eh’ on them.”

Another nod.

“In red and white icing.”

 “Aren’t they fantastic?” he asked, sitting across from Shepard. “I picked them up from the bakery first thing this morning. There was already a line-up but I managed to get a fresh batch.”

Shepard quirked his brow and looked up at Kaidan. “You got up at five in the morning just for these?”

 “They aren’t just any doughnut, John, they’re special maple cream filled doughnuts with maple sugar icing. One day only.”

Shepard smiled softly, fondness in his baby blues. “Whatever makes you happy, Kaidan.”

 “Try one.”

 “I’m not that hun—” Shepard cut himself off mid-sentence, catching on to Kaidan’s enthusiasm. Picking out one of the doughnuts he took a bite while Kaidan got him a cup of coffee.

 “How is it?” he asked, hovering over Shepard as he took a second bite.

 “Sugary,” he said over a mouthful. Accepting the black coffee with his free hand, he took a steady swig, washing down the sweetness. “But good. Still wondering what the occasion is, though.”

 Sometimes Shepard missed subtle hints. And not so subtle hints.

 “Uh… I dunno, Shepard, maybe it’s an important day or something.”

 Shepard blanched and looked up at Kaidan with wide eyes. “It’s not our anniversary is it?”

 Kaidan wished he’d been fast enough with his omni-tool so he could take a photo of Shepard’s face right then and there. Laughing he shook his head and sat back down.

 “Nah, it’s not that. It’s Canada Day.”

 Shepard nodded slowly. Putting the half eaten doughnut down, he brushed the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb. Something told Kaidan he didn’t really enjoy the doughnut. Probably too sweet—especially for a man who had spent the last fifteen years eating nothing but military rations and whatever he could scrounge up from a street vendor in Omega.

 “I take it you’ve got plans for the day then?” he asked.

 Kaidan sat back in his chair and nodded. “Yeah, I kinda do. I mean, only if you want to, though. If you’re tired or don’t feel like going into town that’s alright.”

 “No, it’s fine. I’m good,” Shepard replied. Sometimes Shepard _was_ too tired. The collection of drugs he took to dull the pain made him fatigued most days, and the physical strain he put his body under just going for a morning walk through the wooded trails took the rest out of him. He spent most days building models in the backyard, retraining his hands for fine, delicate work as he hid from the prying eyes of reporters wanting yet another exclusive with the former Commander.

 “Okay, great.” Kaidan stood and bent down to kiss Shepard briefly on his way to the fridge. His kiss tasted of maple syrup, and Kaidan would be lying if he didn’t find that just a tad appealing. “How about I make us a real breakfast?”

 “You mean I don’t have to finish the doughnut?” Shepard asked—a little too enthusiastically.

 Laughing, Kaidan gently pushed Shepard’s head to the side. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Doughnuts—not a favourite.”

XX

 By the time they’d eaten and Shepard had dressed (“You mean I have to put pants on?”), the sun was already high in the sky and there was a steady stream of people headed toward the beach. Music could be heard playing from a live folk band, and red and white balloons floated in the coastal wind atop tented booths. Banners declaring holiday sales and one-day only deals flickered above the stalls, brightly coloured and Canada Day themed.

 Kids ran back and forth along the beach further from the shopping and food area, and there was a group of people standing off to the side in old military garb, a sign above them advertising the local historic society.

 “Can you believe they just wore fabric uniforms into battle?” Shepard asked.

 Kaidan turned toward where Shepard was looking. “Huh?”

 Shepard pointed toward the turn of the 21st century soldiers standing off to the side, their green camouflage uniforms hanging inelegantly from their forms.

 “They didn’t have lightweight armour back then, John,” Kaidan said a bit defensively. They were Canadian soldiers—you didn’t just disrespect their uniforms, even if they did look baggy and ill equipped to take any sort of damage.

 “Yeah but you’d think they’d at least have some sort of protection other than a helmet and a heavy vest.”

 Kaidan rolled his eyes.

 “What?” Shepard said, “All I’m saying is they could have done more to protect themselves. It just seems completely impractical to rely on your tanks to protect yourself. Like, you’d think they’d have thought of armour.”

 “They had armoured soldiers centuries ago. They were called knights. It was too heavy.”

 Shepard tugged Kaidan’s hand and dragged them toward the display and away from the Nanaimo bar stand. Kaidan really shouldn’t have been surprised that Shepard would hone in on the only military themed booth in the entire place. It was a gift of his—truly. He could smell gun oil from a kilometre away.

“Hey there! Happy Canada Day,” one of the reenactors said as they approached a table with numerous guns out on display. “Feel free to touch and feel the guns we’ve got on display. All of them are replicas but we’ve got a demonstration later on showing how guns were used centuries ago using real bullets!”

 Shepard’s attention was focused exclusively on the pistols in the middle of the table, leaving Kaidan to make small talk.

 “Thanks—I’m sure it’ll be a great demonstration.”

 The man nodded enthusiastically. “You two should come on down at three.”

 “No thanks,” Shepard mumbled. He wasn’t much for loud noises now a day. He let go of Kaidan’s hand and picked up an old handgun, the barrel of it open, free for those curious to peek inside the chambers to see how bullets worked prior to the introduction of heat sinks. “When was this made?”

 “Uh, that’s a turn of the twentieth century gun. Well, a replica. The real deal is in a museum somewhere. Wanna see the bullets for it?” He didn’t even wait for an answer and picked up a small silver casing.

 And Shepard was gone—at least for the next ten minutes or so. Leaning his hip against the table, Kaidan let Shepard talk guns with the military enthusiast while he stared longingly at the food booths that promised maple syrup goodness.

 It wasn’t until he caught a flash of red and brown out of the corner of his eye that Kaidan shifted from his spot next to Shepard (who had now moved on to inspecting a machine gun from the Second World War).

 “They have a Mountie, John,” Kaidan practically yelled.

 Shepard looked up from the guns, a brow quirked over his sunglasses. “Yeah? So?”

 “So? _So_? Shepard, that right there is Canada.”

 Kaidan hadn’t seen anyone in the old Mountie uniform since he was a kid. Though the RCMP had changed over the centuries, adapting and conforming to Canada and her needs, the official dress uniforms had stayed much the same since their inception centuries ago. While the RCMP had become less about law enforcement and more a symbolic representation, they were still _Canada_.

 Plus, their uniforms looked… well, they looked _good_.

 “You’re getting awfully excited about him… should I be worried?”

 Kaidan turned to see Shepard sending him a playful smile.

 “What? I’m not… I mean. What?”

 “You’re looking a little flushed,” Shepard teased.

 “If you hadn’t noticed we’re under the sun,” Kaidan said, trying his hardest to keep his expression steady. It never worked around Shepard. Almost immediately he felt his mouth twist with embarrassment.

 Shepard chuckled and slipped his hand around Kaidan’s waist, seemingly forgetting all about the guns behind them. “You’re going to have to get me real drunk to get me into one of those.”

 Kaidan was about to protest but the image of Shepard wearing those boots and that jacket flashed through his mind, and the flush from the sun became an entirely different one for entirely different reasons.

 “Fuck off,” was all he could manage, barely contained amusement behind the harsh words.

 “Maybe you could wear plaid and carry an axe around. I could be the Mountie to your Lumberjack.”

 “Seriously, John.” He started to walk away but Shepard stayed close, arm still wrapped tightly around his waist.

 “You could chop logs all afternoon while I rode a big black horse around, saving tied up women from train tracks.”

 Kaidan snorted. “Oh yeah?”

 “And then when I’d come home to a roaring fire built from the wood you diligently chopped, we’d make love on a grizzly rug. I’d lick maple syrup from your naval and—”

“Oh my god, Shepard. Would you just… just shut up?” It would have been a lot easier to get Shepard to do as he ordered if he weren’t laughing so hard.

“Am I making you _uncomfortable_ in public?”

 “You’re making me _embarrassed_ ,” he said. “Stop teasing me.”

 Only he didn’t want it to stop—not really. Moments like these—silly and carefree—were a rarity for the two of them. Shepard had always been fairly serious, completely and utterly focused on his missions, the weight of the entire galaxy on his shoulders stripping him of the chance to be just a little bit immature like he was being right now. But Kaidan knew Shepard had a playful, humourous streak behind the gruff, almost harsh exterior he wore as a military leader. It came out now and again when it was just the two of them letting go of their ghosts if only for a moment. Shepard’s laugh and his smile and his enthusiasm filled Kaidan up, his joy becoming Kaidan’s joy.

 It was just so damn good to hear Shepard _laugh_.

Stopping in front of a Beavertail booth, Kaidan cupped the back of Shepard’s head and silenced anything else he had to say with a kiss. When they broke apart Shepard was still smirking, looking very pleased with himself.

 “I knew the Mountie was turning you on,” he said.

 “It’s a good thing you’re laid up with that cane or I’d drag you into the ocean,” Kaidan threatened. There was no malice behind it. “Now shut up and let me buy you some traditional Canadian food.”

“Aye aye.”

XX

 “So you never played hockey as a kid?”

 Kaidan shook his head. “I was terrible at skating.”

 Shepard tsked with his tongue and shook his head. “I’m disappointed, Kaidan. I thought playing hockey was _the_ most Canadian thing you could do.”

 “Hey now, I played lacrosse. Technically that’s out national sport,” he said.

“Any good at it?”

 “I was alright. I didn’t really get into it until I was a teenager but by then I was… well, Brain Camp.”

 Shepard nodded knowingly. Sitting back on the bench they shared that overlooked the ocean, Kaidan shifted closer as Shepard wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in nice and close. The sun was almost gone, the sky bright pink, purple, and blue, a stark contrast to the ash coated skies above London.

 It was the perfecting ending to a perfect day.

After buying Shepard a Beavertail (and informing him he wasn’t actually getting a dead rodent’s tail), they wandered down between the shopping stalls, Kaidan telling Shepard about different famous Canadians and accomplishments while Shepard did his best to remain interested. They were only recognized once by a shop keeper who, thankfully, remained relatively composed even as she asked to shake Shepard’s hand and thanked him for his service.

 Shepard took it in stride, however. His experience with Conrad Verner over the years had trained him to be at least a _little_ bit patient with his ‘fans’.

 By mid-afternoon Shepard had begun to slow (although he’d never admit it), and Kaidan subtly suggested they go watch one of the events going down in the town square so they could sit. It ended up being a play put on by a gaggle of kids from the local elementary, detailing the history of Canada up until the advent of the discovery of the mass effect fields. It was cute, in a slightly hectic and loud way. It reminded Kaidan of his own childhood, when his mum sewed together a costume the night before his own school play, sighing heavily as she wrestled with the pleating on his kilt (he represented the Scottish settlers in the east hundreds of years ago. He could probably still remember his lines if he thought about it long enough.)

  After insisting Shepard try poutine (not quite the steak dinner he’d had planned, but Canadian none-the-less) they wandered down the beach, Shepard with a cheap paper flag in his grasp while Kaidan had stuffed his in his back pocket.

 “This has been a… it’s been a great day,” Kaidan said, turning to admire Shepard’s profile. His attention was fixed on the horizon, his brows relaxed and lips pulled up in a small smile. Anytime he looked like this, Kaidan was reminded why he fought so goddamn hard during the war.

 “Yeah… it’s been good. I haven’t gotten to celebrate anything like this before. It’s… yeah, it’s good.”

 Kaidan smiled. “Where you grew up… did they have something like this?”

 “I think so, yeah. I never went, of course. It was always something for people who had money.”

 He hadn’t said it maliciously but Kaidan couldn’t help but wince. Of course Shepard wouldn’t have had the chance to go to something like this.

 “I’m sorry.”

Shepard quirked a brow. “Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.”

 Kaidan laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I’m just being Canadian.”

“Perfect day for it,” he quipped.

 Comfortable silence took hold once more, and Kaidan tore his gaze away from Shepard to look at the ocean. He never realized how much he missed the smell of the sea until he’d left it. It was… it was home, along with the smell of his mother’s perfume and the feel of Shepard’s lips against his own. It had been years since he’d been able to celebrate Canada Day with someone he loved, but it was worth the wait.

There was a steady stream of people wandering by on their way to the fireworks, only gaining momentum the closer the sun was to disappearing completely behind the horizon. Kaidan was about to suggest they leave before they started, but Shepard was already grabbing his cane and standing, grip tight as he took off in the complete opposite direction of everyone else.

 “We should head back before the fireworks start,” he said when Kaidan caught up to him. “It’s going to be crowded down there which means it’ll be hell to get out of here after.”

 It was a flimsy excuse that he didn’t really need to use. Kaidan knew why he wanted to leave and he was fully supportive of it. He wasn’t much for massive explosions in the sky and bright red lights, either. Truth be told, he was surprised there weren’t more people fleeing in the opposite direction. Most of the people on earth had seen or at least heard a Reaper but… well, everyone coped differently, he supposed.

 The drive home was taken in silence, Shepard sitting next to Kaidan, his head resting against the window as he watched the trees fly by the window. It wasn’t until they’d reached the front door of the house that they first heavy boom could be heard far off in the distance.

 Shepard flinched.

 It wouldn’t have been noticeable to most people, but most people weren’t Kaidan—a man who knew Shepard’s ticks and responses better than anyone else. Save, maybe, for Garrus.

 Opening the door, Kaidan let Shepard slip inside first before closing and locking, hoping the door would block out the rest of the firework sounds. Sadly it wasn’t the case. The deep rumble of explosives could be felt and heard if you were hyper-aware of it, and there wasn’t much Kaidan could do about that.

Except, perhaps, to make a few noises of his own.

 “So… is the day over or did you have one more big surprise?” Shepard asked as he turned the lights on in the living room, only to walk through it and head directly into the bedroom.

 Kaidan followed slowly behind, checking his omni-tool for messages as he wandered down the hallway.

 “Nah… I mean, we could have an Arrogant Worms sing-a-long but I think we’ve had our fill of Canada today.”

 “I’m surprised to hear you say that, Kaidan.” Shepard leaned his cane against the wall next to the bed before collapsing on the mattress, legs stretched out before him, toes wiggling.

 “There is only so much maple a guy can take in a day,” he replied. Turning off the omni-tool and locking it for the night, Kaidan went around the room and closed the blinds the old fashioned way, wanting to do something as the rumble of the fireworks worked its way into a crescendo in the background.

 “Put some music on,” Shepard suggested, pointing to the small music system on the other side of the bed.

 “Am I being that obvious?” he asked, doing as instructed.

“Only a little.”

 The music did help. Kaidan had to really strain to hear the bumps and pops. Undoing the buttons on his shirt he pulled it off and tossed it into the laundry basket, his pants following closely behind. Clad only in his boxers he collapsed on the bed next to Shepard and rolled on to his stomach.

 “Take off your pants and I’ll give your knee a rub down,” he said, yawning.

 “That all you’ll give me?” Shepard teased. The music was definitely helping if he was flirting again.

 “I dunno—be cooperative and I might—”

 “Tap me like a maple syrup tree?”

“Shepard… just… just take off your pants.”

 Shepard did as instructed and then some. Completely naked he eased himself back into the bed, finally showing the strain Kaidan knew he’d been feeling all day. Sitting, Kaidan rested Shepard’s leg across his lap and began working the muscles with practiced ease.

 A few months after Shepard’s last surgery, Kaidan had been given instructions by his physiotherapist on how to work the muscles if they got too tight. Shepard had been reluctant at first, not wanting anyone else to shoulder what he thought to be his burden. But Kaidan had insisted and Shepard relented, only giving in once Kaidan sent him his best, most serious ‘concerned puppy-dog’ look (as Tali liked to call it.)

 Pressing his thumb into a tight knot just about where the most damage was, Kaidan watched as Shepard’s face contorted and a wheezy breath slipped through his clenched teeth.

 “You okay?” he asked, not giving in, both of them knowing he had to be brutal to get the muscles to release.

 “’m fine,” he mumbled, putting on a brave face once he knew Kaidan was watching.

 A few more swipes upward and the muscles finally relaxed enough so that Kaidan didn’t feel like he was pushing into a wooden pole rammed into Shepard’s thigh. Easing up, the massage turned into a more relaxing one, Kaidan’s hands skirting further away from Shepard’s knee and up his thigh, broad palms heating his skin as they rubbed slow, steady circles.

 Cracking an eye open, Shepard looked down his body and smirked. “Do I get my reward now?” he asked coyly.

“You gonna stop with the bad Canadian innuendos?”

 “Don’t make me promise something you know I can’t keep.”

 Rolling his eyes, Kaidan went along with Shepard’s gently tugging, stretching out on the bed next to him, smiling into the kiss.

 “At least no more Mountie jokes?” he asked, sliding his hand around Shepard’s waist, pulling him in close so their bodies were pressed flush against each other.

 Shepard just hummed and moved in for another slow, easy kiss, fingers carding through thick black locks, loosening them from their styled hold. Easing into it, Kaidan closed his eyes and rubbed the small of Shepard’s back as he parted his lips, allowing Shepard full control of their movements.

 During the war they hadn’t had time for this kind of thing—where every kiss was sensual and unhurried, a certain kind of laziness to it all. Immediately after the war their intimacy had become non-existent, the most they could share in being a carefully placed kiss and a gentle hug, Kaidan afraid that if he did anything more he’d break Shepard all over again. It had been months before they’d been given the go-ahead from Shepard’s salarian doctor to ‘fornicate’, and even then it wasn’t until their wedding night that Shepard could handle penetration.

 Sex between them had changed and it would never be the same again. Shepard would always be physically limited in some capacity, unable to do some of the things they’d done during those breathless, hectic few weeks they had before the final push, but that didn’t mean things had changed for the worse. Kaidan enjoyed that they could now take their time—that every kiss and touch wasn’t laced with the same desperation and sorrow they’d carried back then.

 Besides, there was nothing wrong with getting a little creative now and again.

 Shepard began to roll his hips against Kaidan’s, the press of his hardening cock felt against his own. Leaving Kaidan’s hair alone, Shepard slipped his hands down and pushed the band of Kaidan’s underpants down, hooking it under the curve of his ass. Immediately he grabbed a handful and squeezed and kneaded the muscle, causing Kaidan to moan into the kiss.

“God, John…” he mumbled when they broke apart, another strangled moan slipping past kiss bruised lips as Shepard ran a finger down his crack.

 Shepard just hummed again and kissed Kaidan deeply, fingertip pressing against his hole. Most days Kaidan had to take the lead and tonight would probably be no different, but Shepard was handsy when it came to his ass, groping it shamelessly whenever he could. Shepard said he’d always been an ass man, but he also said he was a thighs man and a dick man. Really, Shepard just seemed to enjoy all the parts of Kaidan’s anatomy. Not that Kaidan was complaining.

 At some point Kaidan lost his underpants, the black fabric flying across the room, landing in a rumpled heap at the foot of the bed. Pressing Shepard down on to the bed Kaidan kissed along his neck and back up, sucking on his earlobe, relishing in the tight, controlled sounds Shepard was making as he gripped his shoulders and humped upward, grinding his dick into Kaidan’s hip.

 Lying on top of the covers of a bed they shared together, making out with his husband like they were randy teenagers again while their favourite songs played in the background, Kaidan couldn’t think of anything that would make this moment more perfect than it already was.

 Just as he was about to tell Shepard this—and perhaps get teased for his sappiness—Shepard began to shake beneath him.

 Immediately Kaidan stopped what he was doing and sat up, fearful he’d done something to hurt Shepard—pushed his knee too far or touched a sore spot.

 “Shepard are you—“

 Shepard was laughing. He was trying to hide it but Kaidan could tell. It was either or that or he’d just suffered a rather embarrassing accident by the look on his face.

 “What the hell, Shepard?” he asked, bemused.

 Shepard shook his head and managed to compose himself. Sighing heavily, he ran a hand over his face and looked up at Kaidan, still grinning. “I thought of some more pickup lines.”

“Oh great.”

 “Let me tell you one?”

 “Okay, let’s hear it.” Sitting back on Shepard’s lap, Kaidan ran his hands up and down his sides, unable to stop touching him despite the bad puns. He could feel Shepard’s cock against his ass—hard and hot and long—but Shepard seemed not to care in the slightest, his bad puns taking precedence over sex.

 Shepard was a weird guy…

 “Are you gonna dock your canoe in my port?”

 Kaidan groaned and leaned over to rest their foreheads together. “That’s terrible, Shepard.”

 “I got another: c’mon, lumberjack, and climb my pine pole. Or how about: you gonna shoot your puck into my net?”

 The last one got a laugh from Kaidan. “You’re ridiculous...”

 Shepard kissed Kaidan quickly and nuzzled the side of his head, breath hot against his temple. “You love it.”

 “I do,” he mumbled. “And I love you.”

 Shepard wrapped his arms around Kaidan and hugged him close. “Love you too… now do you wanna continue to make out for another twenty minutes or fuck?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah what?”

 “Sorry; yes to the sex, no to the foreplay. I think we’ve both had enough.” Shepard’s cock against his ass and his own bouncing against his stomach were probably good indications of that.

 Kissing Shepard quickly, Kaidan pulled away and went to grab the lube, allowing Shepard time to get comfortable on the bed.

 “How did you want to do this?” he asked, turning around to see Shepard lying on his stomach, head pillowed by his arms.

 “Spoon?” he asked.

 Kaidan nodded and returned, hovering over Shepard’s back. Twisting around, Shepard met him for an awkward kiss, one that was mostly tongue and teeth and too much bumping. Breaking away, Kaidan kissed across his jaw and down the back of his neck, biting the junction between his shoulders. Shepard’s muscles flexed under his mouth as he moved further down, nipping at the sweat slicked skin, the taste of salt and Shepard on his tongue. Moving down the dip of his spine, Kaidan licked a wet stripe down to his tailbone, Shepard arching into the touch and moaning into the pillow.

 Snapping back the cap, Kaidan applied a generous dose of lube to his fingers, biting down on one of Shepard’s ass cheeks playfully.

 “Hey now…” Shepard murmured, shooting Kaidan a smirk over his shoulder.

 Kaidan winked and kissed the offended flesh before spreading Shepard and rubbing his fingers against his entrance gently. Shepard relaxed and ducked his head down, shoulders hunched as he pushed back into Kaidan’s hand, sheathing Kaidan’s fingers for him as he rocked back further.

 Shepard had always been a bit impatient. Just one of the many quirks Kaidan had come to love about him.

 Stretching Shepard carefully, Kaidan curled his fingers downward, stroking his prostate, causing Shepard to groan loudly. He took his time preparing him despite the impatient throbbing of his cock and Shepard’s insistent grinding back that told him he wanted it right then and there. Shepard already had a higher number of daily aches and pains—he didn’t need rough sex to be added to the list of reasons why he hated his morning routine.

 Finally satisfied, he withdrew his fingers and slicked himself up. Lying down next to Shepard, he let him get comfortable on his side before scooting forward, chest pressed against Shepard’s back. Wrapping one hand under and around Shepard’s chest, his other grasped the base of his cock and pushed against his entrance, guiding himself in at Shepard’s desperate insistence.

 As soon as he was inside he stilled, giving Shepard’s body time to adjust to the intrusion. Pressing his forehead against the back of Shepard’s neck he took slow, even breaths, overcome by the feel of Shepard so tight and hot all around him. Grasping Shepard’s thigh he kept his leg elevated, spreading his cheeks and giving Kaidan a little more room to manoeuvre.

 “How’s the knee?” he rasped out, always mindful of it.

 “Good.”

 “Doesn’t ache?”

 “No.”

 Shepard rocked back and reached around and up to tangle his fingers in Kaidan’s hair (mindful of his amp), and tugged the black locks as Kaidan pulled out and thrust back in. Immediately they began to move together perfectly, finding one another’s rhythm with practiced ease. As Kaidan pulled out Shepard moved forward, and as he pushed in again Shepard pushed back, arching his spine back to pull Kaidan in deeper.

Biting his shoulder, Kaidan sucked a bruise on to sun-kissed skin, Shepard gasping sharply as he did so. In retaliation Shepard tightened his walls and pushed down on Kaidan, locking him in place as pleasure mixed with a hint of pain.

 “G-God, Shepard… you’re… you’re…”

“Yeah?”

 “You’re just… you’re just… fuck.” Kaidan couldn’t think of what Shepard was but he was definitely _something_.

 Easing up Shepard allowed for Kaidan to move again, and this time at a faster pace. Letting go of the back of Kaidan’s head, Shepard dropped forward, his now free hand snaking down his stomach to grasp his bouncing cock while the other clutched the sheets, hanging on as Kaidan pounded him from behind.

 Shepard’s heart was hammering under Kaidan’s hand, fingers splayed out against his chest, every inch of him demanding to be touched in that very moment. The pressure at the base of Kaidan’s cock and in his balls was building, every thrust and snap of his hips driving him closer to the edge. A slight adjustment on his part caused Shepard to cry out, and Kaidan knew he’d found his spot.

 Staying on it, Kaidan ground down into him before pulling out and pushing back in with the same intensity. He knew he wasn’t going to last long but held off for as long as he could, needing Shepard to reach the edge with him—his pleasure dependant on Shepard’s.

 “I’m close,” Shepard panted out, his body tightening as he closed in on his orgasm. Trying to hit his prostate each time, Kaidan listened to the sound of flesh against flesh and their own heavy breathing over the sound of the music, noticing the hitch in Shepard’s as he neared the edge and then—

 Shepard tightened around his cock, body spasming as he came with a grunt. Pressing the side of his face into the pillows he milked his cock, cum spurting out across the sheets. Shepard’s orgasm heralded Kaidan’s own and it wasn’t long until he jumped as well, cock pushing deep inside and a breathy moan against Shepard’s neck, his nerves feeling like they’d just been hit with an electric pulse.

 As the afterglow set in Kaidan let go of Shepard’s leg, allowing Shepard to roll back on to his stomach, back popping as he stretched out on the bed. Kaidan followed him and rested his cheek against Shepard’s shoulder, his hand still trapped underneath him.

 “You’re lying in cum…” Kaidan rasped out when he could hear more than the rush of blood in his head.

 Shepard just grunted. “I’ve lain in worse.”

 That was a minor understatement.

 Kissing Shepard’s back, Kaidan kept his lips pressed against the overheated skin, eyes closing as he enjoyed the buzz of the afterglow. He knew he should get up and get a cloth or something so they could clean off, but he was honestly far too content and comfortable to move. Sure, they were sticky and hot, and Shepard’s weight was making his arm go numb, but Kaidan couldn’t think of a more desirable place to be in that moment.

After about five minutes of just _being_ , Shepard began to move about. Kaidan stayed where he was and watched as he fumbled around, searching for the off button on the music player. Soon the room was silent save for the sound of Kaidan extracting his arm from under Shepard with a loud grunt. Rolling on to his back, Kaidan stared up at the ceiling, eyelids drooping as the day caught up with him.

 “Good Canada Day?” Shepard asked quietly. He was still on his stomach, arms tucked under his pillow, cheek pressed into the soft fabric. His sharp cheekbones were adorned with a pink flush, lips curled up in a lazy smile, affection in his piercing blue eyes.

Kaidan would never get sick of this—of Shepard looking so utterly happy and loved and safe. It was a look only Kaidan got to see, and therefore it made it that much more special. The galaxy had their hero Commander Shepard, but only Kaidan had the man named John.

Bad Canadian sexual innuendos and all.

 “Perfect Canada Day,” he said, and pulled Shepard in for a long, sweet kiss. Sweeter than any maple syrup confection he’d ever have.


End file.
